Life on the road is a mix of paradoxes. I am free but I am a prisoner. I am a prisoner but I am free. I hate it but I love it. My days are routine, and yet I can never predict what may come along. I am free to turn left or right at the fork in the road. It does not really matter which I choose. Except that the choice will change my life.
Freedom. What a gift. The liberty to walk the road I choose. To be spontaneous. How often do you wake in the morning with no idea where you will sleep that night? It is hard work but I miss it when I am not doing it. Having no idea where I will sleep at the end of the day is a fine declaration of freedom. A declaration of independence. We hold these truths to be self-evident…
If I travel on foot, and if I have time and energy in abundance, then mine is the Earth, and everything that’s in it. I need very little money. I can go anywhere I want.
And fear not, my friend, the darkness is gentler than you think. Embrace the night and I can sleep almost anywhere on the planet. Many of my happiest nights have been outdoors. A canopy of stars or a bright full moon. Lying beside a campfire or swimming in a dark river. Nobody knows where I am. I am alone and truly free. These are the times that make me feel as though I have everything I need in life. That is freedom.
This text is an extract from There Are Other Rivers, available as a giant mappazine or a free Kindle sample.
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